guarded in the convent; he wishes an interview, but how is it to be effected? He tries to bribe the servants; it will not do; to scale the walls--too steep and high; to get a rope-ladder, narrowly escapes being caught, but succeeds at last by----the ministration of an earthquake. There comes a convulsion so delicate and nice, as to make a chasm large enough for the lovers, without being seen by any body else.” “A most civil and accommodating earthquake, indeed,” said Hamilton. “The lovers meet every night, and continue in an adjoining grove till morning, and often repeat their interviews. The effects of the earthquake become daily more visible: but the morality is marvellous and gigantesque, as well as the fable. When it is obvious that poor Miss experiences the consequences of sentimental susceptibility, and is taken to task by the rest of the sisterhood, she admits the fact, but denies guilt. She had found her lover a very pleasant youth; it was agreeable to benevolence to make such a youth happy, especially when she could make herself happy to boot; forms were mere inventions of priests, to subjugate the best and most delightful feelings of nature to their controul. Was it a crime, to add to the number of mankind? Here you have the liberal and expanded morality of the German drama. I could give you various instances of the superlative excellence of modern Germanic literature, on subjects of property, establishments, religious institutions, and many other topics; but the present samples shew the nature, objects, and character of the works which I wish to translate. Do not you think the infusion of German productions will tend very much to improve the literature and science of Britain, physical, moral, and political?” Hamilton made it a rule not to enter into disputes with persons, from whose knowledge and arguments he was sure he could derive neither valuable information nor instruction, and thence he had usually abstained from argumentation with Dr. Scribble. In the present instance, conceiving that there was no ground of apprehension that such incongruous absurdities could be favourably received by the vigorous and discriminating understandings of Englishmen, he thought that the publication would be perfectly harmless, would be little read, make no impression, and be speedily forgotten. For rapidly steering a literary bark to the gulph of oblivion, he knew no one could be better qualified than Dr. Scribble; indeed his very name had a Lethean effect, as it precluded the perusal of works, which a sight of the title-page associated with the idea of nonsense. “Do you mean,” said our hero, “to put your name to it, Doctor?” “Oh certainly,” inter-posed Lawhunt, “we must have the Doctor’s name.” “Yes,” said the Doctor, “my name will have it’s weight; I believe I have published more volumes than any man of my age.” “Especially,” remarked Hamilton, “first editions.” Lawhunt happening at this instant to go out, the Doctor said, “I do not like